Alright, I'll admit it: I am sedentary. I know- it's shameful. And slightly pathetic. See, I have taken dance (real, hardcore, ballet-taught-by-professional-ballerinas dance) for sixteen years. SIXTEEN. Yes, that would make it since I was two. And yet, instead of being svelte and ballerina-y I am... well, the opposite. That's because I don't really do anything. I mean, dance is over. (Just like high school). I might pick up classes again in the fall, (doubtful), but during the summer? Yep, I'm pretty much just chilling in front of my computer.
Sad? yes. Irreversible? no. I'm starting school in the fall, (erm... in about a month, actually.) And do you know what my school has?
A gym.
Yes, that most dreaded of places that can't make a chair-potato like myself seem ridiculously out-of-place and have me begging for the internet in a matter of minutes. It's sterile, it's hot, it's full of hard-bodied people I just know are giggling at my inability to figure out a lat press.
It's also where I'll be spending an hour every day when school starts.
I know. I KNOW. Everyone says they will be in the gym once a day. It's right up there with cleaning out my closet and learning how to cook French cuisine on the stuff-i-should-do-that-will-never-get-done. But here's the thing:
I have to. I have to be there an hour a day. One hour every day in the place that makes me nervy just thinking about it. Why?
My roommate.
Yes, that most annoying of all college traditions. The roommate. Of course, my roommate is a total doll and I love her to death.
But she likes the gym.
And she's declared me her gym buddy.
And, okay, I think I may have agreed sometime that this is a great idea.
But I was clearly deranged at the time.
It doesn't matter, though, because I am now accountable. I promised. And I now have to venture into the treadmill-infested waters of the gym.
So you, dear readers, are now subject to my gym-adventures. Of course, don't expect them regularly because I am nothing if not flaky. But I will be there, I assure you.
A promise is a tricksome bitch.
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2 comments:
I bet you are not as out of shape as you think but take these words VERY SERIOUSLY "If you don't make the habit now it won't ever come easy. When your a mom it's even harder. And you will feel so much better.
now it's your turn. I need some encouraging words.
oh, I'm definitely out of shape...
and my self-discipline is just awful. But I'm determined! And you should be too! You can do this! It's simple: you want to be able to play with your kids! (I'm assuming you have them... If you don't, be like me: I want to be able to play with my friends! ha)
When I'm a mom, I want to be a hot mom. The kind of mom that can play a game of touch football in the yard. The kind of mom that can go to the beach in a swimsuit and be hit on by younger guys (but shoo them away, obviously. ;))
But those are big goals. What I like to do: break them up into teensy goals. You're not running until you fit into that swimsuit, you're just working out half an hour today. Then tomorrow. Repeat. It's that simple. I trick myself into believing that it's just today, so I don't get overwhelmed by "holy-crap-there's-no-way-I-can-wear-those-jeans" My way, it's more like, "who said I need to wear those jeans, I've already got my outfit picked out for today, and all I'm doing is working out for today."
I dunno if that made sense, but I hope it did! You can do it! Thank you so much for commenting :D
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